Absolutely! Here's the new Chapter 3, starting immediately after Elenore kills the last assassin and flees with Kael, abandoning the burning house. This version
The last assassin gurgled on his own blood before his body collapsed in the hallway, lifeless and twitching. Elenore didn't flinch. She held her stance for a heartbeat longer, blade angled low, eyes flicking across the blood-slicked floor for any movement. Nothing.
It was over.
She exhaled sharply and wiped her blade clean on the nearest corpse, her fingers already moving in practiced rhythm to check her surroundings. No reinforcements. No traps. No time.
They came for Kael.
She turned and sprinted back through the ruined corridors, stepping over shattered furniture and smoldering rugs. The old estate groaned from the spreading flames — wood cracked, beams snapped, smoke poured in from the eastern wing. Her home, or what passed for it, was gone.
But she hadn't failed.
Not yet.
She burst into the chamber where Kael lay motionless on the floor, unconscious but alive. His breathing was shallow, and a thin trail of blood marked the side of his face where one of the assassins had struck him earlier. He looked fragile. Unassuming. Barely worth the effort of saving.
But she knew better now.
Elenore knelt, hoisted him over her shoulder in a smooth motion, and stood without a grunt of strain. He was heavier than he looked, but her frame bore it with ease. Smoke stung her eyes, and heat licked at her legs.
No time.
With Kael slung over her back, she moved like a ghost — silent, swift, deadly.
Down the side hallway. Through the servant's exit. Past the half-collapsed garden wall. She paused only once, at the edge of the tree line, and looked back at the house.
A flicker of something passed through her eyes. Not regret. Not sadness. Just cold finality.
Then, from her belt, she pulled a small green rune and crushed it between her fingers. A muted hum pulsed through the air.
The fire inside the house surged.
And Elenore vanished into the woods.
---
Night deepened as she ran.
The forest swallowed them whole — branches whispering overhead, the underbrush muffled by soft footfalls. Her movements were precise, calculated, avoiding trails and paths. She moved through the wild like it was second nature, guided by instinct and training.
Kael stirred once, a weak groan against her shoulder, but he didn't wake. His body was still fevered, and something beneath his skin pulsed faintly. Elenore didn't like it. Whatever had been lying dormant in him… it was starting to move.
She didn't slow.
Hours passed.
By the time she reached the cave hidden in the ravine, dawn was barely a whisper on the horizon. She laid Kael down on a rolled cloak, checked his vitals, and lit a small fire with flint and dried leaves. Her face remained stoic, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of exhaustion. And something else.
Doubt.
Not in herself — but in the world she had just turned her back on.
---
When Kael finally woke, the fire had dimmed to embers.
His first breath was sharp and ragged, his body protesting as he sat up.
His voice came out hoarse. "Elenore…?"
"You're alive," she said without looking at him. She was seated on a rock beside the fire, blade resting across her knees.
Kael blinked. His head was pounding. His shoulder throbbed. And his memories—
The fire. The blades. The cold eyes of the man who said he'd make it quick.
"They tried to kill me," he whispered.
"Yes," she said.
"Why?"
She turned to him now. There was no warmth in her eyes.
"Because they've finally accepted what they always believed," she said. "That you're not worth the burden."
Kael's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"
She stood slowly and walked toward him, the firelight dancing across her armor. "The House of Ardyn believes you're a disgrace," she said flatly. "A failure. A stain on the family's name."
Her words were ice.
Kael flinched as if struck. "That's not true."
"It is," she replied. "They say you'll ruin everything Ardyn stands for. You carry the blood, but not the strength. Not the spirit."
"I never asked to be born into that house," he snapped.
"And they never asked for you," Elenore said bluntly.
Silence.
The fire crackled.
Kael looked down at his hands. They were trembling. Not from fear. From something else. Something coiled deep inside his chest — hot, restless, barely restrained.
"So why did you save me?" he asked bitterly.
Elenore crouched beside him and stared straight into his eyes. "Because I've seen what they refuse to."
"What?"
She held his gaze. "You survived. You shouldn't have. But you did."
"That's not strength," he muttered. "It's luck."
"No," she said. "It's will. Something inside you kept fighting even when your body shut down. That kind of instinct can't be taught."
Kael looked away. He didn't want to believe her. He didn't want to believe any of this. But the pain in his ribs, the cold in his bones, the scent of blood and smoke still clinging to his skin — they were real.
All of it was real.
Elenore stood. "You're not a noble anymore, Kael. You're not a prince or an heir. That life burned with the house."
Kael swallowed hard.
"Then what am I now?" he asked.
Her voice was quiet — steady, but cold.
"…Free."
And somehow, that terrified him more than anything else.